Morning arrived quietly, but the academy could not hide the scars of the night before.
The training grounds—usually polished steel and humming circuits—lay cracked and scorched. Blackened
streaks marred the walls. A section of the barracks still smoldered, smoke curling like ghosts reluctant to
leave.
Auren stood alone at the far edge of the grounds.
The wind hissed across the ruined field. The air still tasted of burnt metal and ozone. Last night's chaos
clung to him like a second skin—sirens, collapsing walls, that impossible surge of power, and the ash of
Code 001 drifting through the room.
He'd tried to explain the scene to the instructors. He couldn't.
His memories were fractured—fogged between clarity and storm. Behind them, he sensed something else.
A whisper that wasn't his.
The instructor—stern but not cruel—had simply rested a hand on Auren's shoulder and told him to rest.
Now, in the cold dawn, rest felt impossible.
He stared across the scorched field, the weight of last night settling deeper in his chest.
Across the grounds, someone else stared back.
Alys Virellis.
She stood among her faction, silent, hands folded behind her back. Her gaze was fixed on him—unblinking,
analytical.
Her lips moved, barely a whisper:
"He killed 001…? How?"
She looked away only when her wristband buzzed.
A message.
Her eyes scanned it—then her expression shifted.
A faint smile. Cold. Knowing. Satisfied.
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She shut the message and stepped forward.
Arrival of Legends
"Cadets!" Instructor Ryn roared.
Engines thundered before the echo faded.
The sky split open as six descending crafts sliced through the clouds—sleek, black, shaped like blades
falling from heaven. They landed in perfect formation.
Dust billowed.
The ground trembled.
Then—
The hatches opened.
Six figures stepped out.
They did not walk. They arrived—as if the world made space for them.
Each wore a battle suit radiating its own presence: fire, lightning, frost, bestial fury, spectral distortion, and
illusion. Power rolled off them in waves.
They were the Xeon Warriors.
Legends.
The elite guardians of the Ion Sector.
Instructor Ryn bowed his head slightly—a rare gesture.
"Cadets," he announced, "these warriors are your future mentors. Each one controls an entire domain of
battle. You will learn from them—or you will break trying."
One warrior stepped forward.
Armor glowing molten red. Eyes sharp with calm fury.
Viron. The Flame Emperor.
He studied the cadets, gaze settling on Auren.
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A smirk.
He extended his hand.
Flame rippled, gathering in his palm. Nanotech swirled, forming a crimson sword. Heat radiated outward in
crushing waves.
Some cadets collapsed instantly. Others clenched their teeth, shaking.
"Endure this pressure for ten seconds," Viron said. "If you fail, you are expelled."
His aura exploded.
The ground cracked. Air distorted. Heat slammed into them like a living god.
Auren gritted his teeth as the pressure crushed his ribs.
Alys stood strong, though sweat traced her brow.
Two others endured.
Then—six seconds later—three of them fell.
Only Auren and Alys remained.
Their eyes locked.
Not rivals. Not allies. Something stranger. A refusal to be the first to fall.
Nine seconds. Alys dropped.
Ten seconds. Auren was still standing.
Barely.
His vision dimmed—yet his core flame stirred, surging through him like a beast waking from slumber.
Viron clapped once. A thunderous sound.
"Good!" he boomed. "Instructor—where did you find this monster?"
Auren didn't answer. His eyes remained on the Flame Emperor.
Something in that fire called to him.
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Choosing Fate
The Xeon Warriors introduced themselves.
Shin, the Thunder Emperor. Rykon, the Beast Emperor. Lysara, the Snow Empress. The Sword Empress. The
Illusion Emperor. Viron, the Flame Emperor.
Then came the decision.
"Choose your mentor," Shin commanded.
Cadets rushed to their choices:
Nine to Thunder Emperor Shin. One to Beast Emperor Rykon. Two to the Sword Empress. One to the Snow
Empress.
Then all eyes turned to Auren.
The expected path was obvious—Shin, the strongest.
Instead, Auren walked toward Viron.
The flames around the Emperor pulsed in recognition.
Auren knelt.
"I accept you as my master."
Silence.
Then flame.
Viron laughed—a sound like roaring fire.
"Good," he said quietly. "You felt it, didn't you? My flame burns deeper than what the world sees."
He leaned forward.
"Rise, disciple."
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